Princess
by Forlay
Summary: The story of Taylor's life.


#  Princess

##  By: Forlay

I'd always led a privileged life. As a child growing up, my parents gave me whatever I wanted. I was beautiful, easily the most popular girl in school. But what was happening now...was this a privilege? or was someone punishing me for what I'd become?   
I was watching as Sub-Visser 51 tortured the Andalite. Giving him immense pain one moment, pleasure the next. She was enjoying it. And so was I.   
How had my life gotten this way?

***

"Come here, Princess," Daddy called me. That was his pet name for me, I was his only child, his perfect daughter, his Princess.   
Giddily, I ran towards him as quickly as my legs would carry me. When I reached him, he picked me up and swung me around, making me burst into giggling fits.   
"Mommy tells me something special is happening today," he said once we'd sat down - him in his easy chair, me on his lap. "But she wasn't sure what it was. And I don't remember either. Do you know?"   
I giggled again. "Silly Daddy. It's my birthday!"   
"Your birthday?! How old are you?"   
"Five."   
"Well, then, I guess it's a good thing I picked this up!" he reached down beside his chair and pulled out a package wrapped in pink paper with purple bows. I squealed in delight and wriggled down onto the floor where I sat and ripped the paper off the box.   
Mommy came into the living room and sat on the arm of Daddy's chair as I opened up the box. Inside was a sparkly pink dress, long white gloves, a wand and a beautiful golden crown. My very own Princess costume.

***

As I started school I continued to be a princess. Teachers recognized me as being exceptionally bright and wrote home on my report cards that I was a joy to have in class and that I had exceptional leadership qualities. I didn't understand those words, of course, I just knew that I always had friends around me. I always had friends to play with at recess. I was in heaven.   
In second grade I was still Daddy's Little Princess and was treated accordingly, at home, shielded from the awful realities of the world, the true cruelness of human beings, but that illusion had to be shattered sometime. It was on story day that my idillic childhood ended.   
On that day, everyone was to come to school as their favorite storybook character, naturally I went as a princess.   
I was out on the playground when it happened. I was playing hopscotch with the other girls. I had reached the last block and was turning back when I was suddenly sprawled out on the blacktop. My crown fell off my head and clattered to the sneakered feet of one of the boys who'd pushed me.   
"Is the pretty little princess going to cry now?" he mocked. "No? How about now?" He stomped viciously on my crown, shattering the plastic easily.   
I felt tears sting behind my eyes, but even at eight I knew I couldn't show weakness in front of this bully. Besides, princesses didn't cry.   
"Baby," the bully spat. "Only babies dress up as princesses." He kicked a shard of my crown away and ran off with his friends while the other girls crowded around me to help me up.   
I changed that afternoon. I wouldn't be the soft princess anymore. No, I'd be the queen. Queen of all around me. Better than them. Always better.

***

Throughout elementary school I stayed on top of the social hierarchy, making sure I was first to do everything. I had my ears pierced twice by third grade, was the first girl to wear makeup in fourth grade and by the end of that year I was the only girl wearing a bra. It was uncomfortable, and I didn't really need it, but it got me the attention I desired.   
Starting middle school, I had to work my way up in popularity again. Five elementary schools emptied into the middle school, so I automatically gained four competitors for most popular, but I made it back to the top, slowly but surely I became the school's princess. I made up bits of information to make me more grown up, thus more popular. By Christmas Break that year, everyone thought I had a steady boyfriend, and I made the fact that he was older well known. Truthfully, I'd never had a boyfriend, or even come close to having one, but with everyone thinking I was going out with a high schooler I became the most popular girl in our grade, and I kept the position.   
I wore all the latest clothes, never wearing the same outfit twice. I went tanning, wore my makeup and styled my hair just right so I looked ten years older. I had all the guys following me like puppies. When I broke up with my imaginary boyfriend, I had a real one just two days later.   
The rest of middle school went much the same way. I was the obsession of every guy, the envy of every girl. My clique was the most exclusive in the school, it was the highest honor to sit at my lunch table, the greatest snub to be ignored.   
And in high school it only got better.

***

The first stay of high school is a nerve wracking experience for those who don't have much confidence. You're starting over again, youngest in the school, looked down upon by the sophomores, juniors and seniors, but for me it was different. I walked in the door that first day, my extremely good looking boyfriend on my arm, a gaggle of girls around me. Even the senior girls knew I'd be a worthy foe for the title of most popular.   
I joined the tennis team that year and discovered I had a natural talent for it. That year I was ranked second in the championships. I joined the student council too and was voted secretary, the highest position a freshmen could hold.   
Sophomore year was more of the same. Won second in the championships again, which infuriated me. I was supposed to be the best, the princess, but twice there was someone better than me. Next year I'd win. I promised myself that.   
I got the lead in the school play and was vice president of the student council. I changed boyfriends as often as I changed socks. I could have any boy I wanted, and I got him. I went out with a guy, strung him along for a few weeks, two months at the most, then dumped him and laughed over it.   
Untill I met Dan, that is. He was perfect. The prince to my princess. Tall, muscular, tan skin, blue eyes, golden hair. He loved me and I loved him. I never wanted to leave him.   
Junior year was my best yet. I finally made president of the student council and won first in the tennis championship, having arranged a slight...accident, for the girl who'd beaten me the last two years. It's awfully hard to play tennis if you sprain your ankle by falling down a few stairs.   
And Dan and I were as happy as ever. We began to plan our lives after high school: get married, go to college together, move out to the country where we'd have three kids, two girls and a boy, and live happily ever after, just as a princess and her prince should.   
Senior year started as the crowning glory to my high school career. I was voted student council president again. Dan and I were madly in love, and the students realized that. They voted us the king and queen of homecoming.   
We must have made a striking couple that night. Me in my satin sapphire blue form fitting dress, hair piled elegantly on top of my head and encircled by a silver tiara and him in his tux and golden crown, every part of him practically glowing with pride.   
I treasure the memories of that night. It was the last accolade I, as Taylor, ever received.

***

It was two nights after homecoming. A Sunday. My parents were out at some party. I was asleep in my room, dreaming about Dan, wishing he were with me at that moment.   
There was never an alarm. I didn't even smell the smoke. I didn't realize anything was wrong untill I woke around midnight, uncomfortably hot. I opened my window and looked out. There, on the porch below me, were flames. Wild, orange flames, climbing up the side of the house.   
I dashed across the room and flew open the door, only to be met by a wall of flames. I couldn't even close the door again, flames had begun to eat away at the frame.   
I picked up my phone to dial 911, but it was dead. There was nothing I could do but sit in the middle of the room and pray I would be saved before I burned to death.   
My prayer was only half answered.   
I must have passed out, probably from smoke inhalation, or maybe pain from being burned alive, for the next thing I knew I was in a hospital with my parents hovering near my bedside. There were heavy circles under my father's eyes and Mom's face was tear stained.   
I wanted to sit up, but I couldn't move. I could feel my entire body was heavily bandaged, except for my left arm and right leg. I couldn't feel them at all.   
"Mommy? Daddy?" My voice was thick and dry. I could hardly move my tongue enough to get the words out. Mom took my hand gently and burst into a new wave of tears while Dad looked even more solemn and grave. "What happened?"   
"There was a fire," Dad said flatly. "The fire fighters found you in your room, passed out from too much smoke. You were burned terribly and...I'm sorry, Princess...they couldn't...the burns were too bad..." he broke off, weeping. Alarmed, but determined to know what was happening, I managed to raise my head enough to look down at my body. My left arm was gone, and where my legs were, through the sheets I could only see the outline of one leg. I wanted to cry myself, but I wasn't able to, my burns were too severe.

***

I spent several months in the hospital, recovering. My physical wounds healed slowly, I'd carry scars on my face, body, arm and leg for the rest of my life. My emotional scars would never heal, however. A few people from school visited me, but only once or twice. I heard later that rumors had gone around school that I looked like a monster. The Queen from Snow White after she transformed herself into an old hag, a hundred times worse.   
Dan was conspicuously absent from my few visitors. As soon as I could use my arm again I called him.   
"Dan?" I said when he answered his phone. "It's Taylor."   
He sounded like he was choking on the other end of the line. "Taylor! How are you, Princess?"   
"Not well. Not well at all, Dan. It's awful here, I'm so isolated and alone. I get hardly any visitors. Why haven't you come to see me?"   
he was silent for a moment. "I couldn't bear to see you like that, Taylor. The kids at school all said how horrible the scars were...I didn't want to see my beautiful Princess like that."   
"But...you love me. My looks shouldn't matter to you."   
"They don't to me, Princess, but other people...we wouldn't get to do anything together again, no one wants..."   
"To be seen with a monster?"   
"That's not it, Taylor! I lo--"   
"Goodbye, Dan."

***

I returned to school shortly after my breakup with Dan. It was amazing how school had changed. Students no longer worshiped me, and teachers no longer upheld me as the model student. I was a monster, feared by my peers, pitied by my teachers.   
One adult didn't pity me, however. The middle school's assistant principal, Mr. Chapman, searched me out after school one day.   
"Taylor?"   
I looked up at him from my wheelchair. "What?" My voice was raspy, nothing like the musical, sexy voice I'd had before the fire.   
"I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment."   
My mother hadn't come to pick me up yet so I said yes.   
He told me about an organization he was a part of. People of all backgrounds were a part of it. I'd be accepted there no matter what I looked like.   
He told me I was a smart, talented girl, a girl with a bright future. My injuries didn't have to mean the end of my life. Then he made his offer.   
"Members of The Sharing can go to a special hospital. The technology there is very advanced, more so than the hospitals you've been to. The doctors there could repair your scars. You'd be as beautiful as you once were. More so, even."   
I stared at him in disbelief, and to his credit, he didn't turn away in disgust to see a monster staring at him.   
"I can understand if you need more time to decide..."   
"No!" I said quickly. "I just can't quite believe it. I just need to be a part of this club and...you can make me whole again?"   
"Absolutely," Mr. Chapman assured me with a smile. He handed me a slip of paper with an address and phone number on it. "We're having an initiation meeting tonight at this address. Normally, people are partial members for a few months before they come full members, but you're special, Taylor, you can join as a full member right away. Your parents can call me at that number if they have any questions." Mom's car pulled up then. "I'll see you tonight, Taylor."

***

My parents were happy that I wanted to join The Sharing, happy that I was beginning to take part in life again. I didn't tell them about the hospital, that I could look like a princess again and they wouldn't have to look at my with shame and pity anymore, that could be a pleasant surprise for them since the surgery would be free.   
That night my parents took me to the meeting. I was the last new member to be initiated, but I didn't mind the wait. I was going to be a part of something again, I would be a princess. Already I was being treated like on by the partial members. It was obvious the full member wielded the power in this club, and I had it once again.   
After the small party that was held after our initiation, the full members were all led into a back room. From there we were taken down. Down to the Yeerk Pool. None of us knew what was down there, of course, but I didn't care. Sure, I was scared a bit by the screams I heard, but I ignored it. I didn't care what I had to endure, so long as I could be beautiful again.   
I was last in line on the infestation pier. I didn't know what was going to happen to me, but judging from the looks on the faces of those who went ahead of me, it had to be something good.   
Finally, it was my turn. Two controllers gently lifted me from my wheelchair and laid me on my stomach, my head hanging over the end of the pier.   
"Turn your head to the side," one instructed me while he held my hair back. "This may hurt for a moment, but it'll be okay."   
That made me nervous, but when I felt the first inkling of stinging in my ear, I could have laughed. Pain? They didn't know true pain. True pain was being burned beyond recognition. True pain was being snubbed by your so called friends. Stinging and a little bit of pressure were nothing.   
It was strange when the sub-visser first tapped into my brain, slowly gaining control of my motor functions, then she began to search my memories.   
A cripple?! > she cried, enraged. I'm a sub-visser of the Yeerk Empire! I'm not supposed to be assigned to a cripple! >   
"What's the meaning of this?" she demanded using my voice as the controllers lifted me - us? - back into the wheel chair.   
"She's the daughter of the police chief, your intended host. You can use this host to get close and capture her," one of the controllers said.   
"A crippled teenage girl?!"   
"Inuss 2-2-6 has promised to repair her."   
The sub-visser had nothing to say about that. She simply figured out how to work my wheelchair and wheeled us away.   
Who are you? > I asked her. What's a sub-visser? What's the Yeerk Empire? >   
You're a voluntary host, aren't you? > the sub-visser asked me, avoiding my questions.   
Pardon? >   
A voluntary host. You agreed to let me in your head. >   
I don't know about agreeing to let you in my head, but I agreed to join The Sharing. They promised to make me beautiful again. >   
The sub-visser laughed. You're a shallow child, aren't you? > she continued to search through my memories. but you were powerful once, weren't you? You want to be powerful again. >   
How else can I survive? >   
The sub-visser laughed again. I think we'll get along quite well, Taylor. >

***

Sub-Visser 51 was right, we did get along. We had much in common. Namely, we wanted to be powerful, and we'd do anything to get that power.   
The surgery was performed the day after my infestation, and soon after we returned to school, more beautiful and powerful than ever.   
Visser Three recognized the sub-visser's ruthlessness and made us his second in command, the princess of the Yeerks on Earth. The sub-visser was an expert in torture, so whenever Visser Three needed information from someone, they were given to us to handle.   
I loved the power torturing gave us. As the sub-visser extracted information from her victims, I watched giddily, imagining they were the people from school who'd treated me so badly over the months since the fire.   
When Visser Three announced his plan for testing the Anti-Morphing Ray on one of the Andalite Bandits, Sub-Visser 51 was the natural choice as interrogator. Oh, the power we had! There had never been a doubt in Visser Three's mind that we'd be the ones to question the Andalite, that's how powerful we were.   
But things hadn't turned out as we planned. The tables had been turned and now the sub-visser and I were being question on our past from an Andalite now trapped forever as a hawk. Being accused by this hawk of madness.   
Who are you? > he asked.   
"I am a sub-visser of the Yeerk Empire."   
No. You're a week, misguided human girl. And you're also insane. >   
The sub-visser didn't know how to answer that and neither did I. Could he possibly be right? And if he was, what would that mean?   
There was only one answer we could give, we decided.   
"Then join me in my madness, Andalite."

_Author's Notes: Yes, I know, a bit of a departure from my normal fics, but I was thinking about Taylor for some odd reason, so I re-read 33 and then decided to write out this fic. I'm so proud of myself, I got over my writer's block and wrote this in three hours! Anyway, Taylor's my new favorite bad guy, so I might end up doing something more with her in the future. She's just so **fun!**_


End file.
